You'd better believe in me, I am here... (x2) You'd better believe in me, I am here... (x2) You've caught in the web Just upon yourself You cry out
kommt die sehnsucht wieder und ich denk' an dich und du an mich wir sehen uns beide magisch an es ist nie vorbei es ist zauberei wie ein unsichtsbares Paar E-type
I'm falling... I'm falling to pieces inside my mind without you Among the things that you left behind a picture painted by our dreams so now I'm none
the trinity Camilla: We lurched into the deepest night As black as it may be I seek to clear this clouded sight So all of you can see Stakka & E-type
+Shticks Of One Kind And Half A Dozen Of The Other She wheels her wheelbarrow Through streets that are narrow, Her barrow is narrow, her hips are too
long time since I spoke to you in a bathroom Gripping you up, fucking, and choking you What the hell was I supposed to do? I know you ain't getting this type
Hey! Waking up to the sound of text messages And typing in my ear You just can't wait to check your e-mail I'll beg and beg, baby connect with me instead
, yeah, slow down baby Let you know from the gate I don't go down lady I wanna chick with thick hips that licks her lips She can be the office type or
Deep, Kenny and Will and them, KRS-One we thrillin em Many battles we been in them now we rebuildin them We blaze, fulfillin them, Keith ?, Jesse, Jamil and them We originate styles, other
when it was time to go to war, it was like "where these niggaz at?" Fuck rackets, we ain't never been the type to hold out Or, let a motherfucker show
in my M3, Little reaction is all I need, Start a lil bit of F - I - R - E, Make me when I cum at you a lil bit harder, Know your type your a lil bit
don't know nothin 'bout jumpin out splittin homeboy head But for real that's fucked up they say that homeboy dead I can't even think, who 'gon want him dead Have no idea what type
t know nothin' 'bout jumpin' out splittin' homeboy head But for real that's fucked up they say that homeboy dead I can't even think, who 'gon want him dead Have no idea what type
ya Ya lookin' kind of tight but you act too fly to me Push this thing in ya mouth and right before I nut I pull it out and get ya E-Y-E Now you know
in the D J.E. era, chromed out carreras Sex, boozin', and nonstop I flow watch out Gimme some Chrystal, a sip or so You can send 'em all back The type
Soon as they smell that aroma, they say light the L Yeah, they see me flow, Half Baked like Chappelle I guess I swim and smoke like Michael Phelps Yeah, type the e
That leave MC's, recognizing like Sam Sneed The funkindominal, I bring drama to any rendezvous Rock three-sixty-five, twenty-four, Monday through That other shit, makes them other
, the Hong Kong Fooey, human tornado like Rudy Turning your bomb-ba-zee into doobies Platinum overseas like the Fugees, Japanese Germany groupies, mooshi mooshi, sniffin' lines Off each other
